


Will of the Force

by The_nixie



Category: Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: AgriCorps, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bandomeer, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:42:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24382996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_nixie/pseuds/The_nixie
Summary: Obi-Wan fails his Knight trials and forges a new path.(Work is currently on-hold. Real life catching up.)
Kudos: 59





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please critic and comment!! :) 
> 
> Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. I stole ideas from other fanfics.

“You’ve failed your trials,” Mace Windu says, matter of factly. It was a small council session, with only Mace Windu, Ki-Adi Mundi and Master Yoda in attendance. Obi-Wan stood before them.

“I failed?” Obi-Wan repeated. Shocked. How could he have failed? Master Qui-Gon had said he was ready. He had been ready. He had killed the Sith, after all.

“But I can’t remember!” Obi-Wan protests. He was trembling now. He couldn’t believe it. “What did I fail?”

“Matters not, it does,” Master Yoda says. “Failed you, have.”

“But I don’t even remember-“ Obi-Wan says. He tries to calm himself. Centers himself, and it works a bit to calm the maelstrom in his mind. His body ceases trembling, and though his emotions still feel like bursting through his chest, he is a rock once more.

“Memory wipe is the standard procedure for failed candidates,” Mace Windu says. “Enough of this. We shall now discuss your future.”

“Yes, masters” Obi-Wan says.

“A jedi, you still are,” Yoda says. “Many paths still open to you, of service you-”

“-Agricorp?” Obi-Wan blurts out, interrupting Master Yoda. Master Yoda is too stunned to reply. 

“Among others,” Mace Windu says. “We will come to it. Patience, young Kenobi.” He nods to Ki-Adi Mundi.

“Master Jocasta Nu has expressed her need for a young aide,” Ki-Adi Mundi says. “A fine archivist you shall be, if you accept.”

Master Nu had always been kind to him, and he had always enjoyed the quiet time in the archives. But still, to be stuck in the temple archives for the rest of his life. He shouldn’t be selfish. He should put down his pride. It was a good calling after all. He wanted to say he accepted, but his mouth has other ideas.

“I thank Master Nu for the generous offer. More options, do I have?” he asks.

“Master Cin Drallig has also offered to train you-,” Ki-Adi Mundi says. 

“Master Drallig, it would be an honour.” Obi-Wan says. When he sees the jedi Masters looking at each other, he realises Master Mundi was not yet done. 

“As I was saying,” Ki-Adi Mundi continues, “Master Cin Drallig has offered to train you for the temple guard. A little old you are for initiation, but he believes a fine guard you will be.”

Oh. Oh. A temple guard. Not a padawan. 

“I thank Master Drallig for his kind offer,” Obi-Wan says. But he did not want to be a temple guard. It was far worse than being an archivist. He couldn’t imagine the sort of life the temple guard’s lived. A lifelong commitment as an anonymous sentinel. It was a noble calling, but no, he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

“Master Clee Rhara has offered to take you as a padawan, if you would enlist in the pilot program,” Ki-Adi Mundi says.

Master Rhara was his good friend Garren Muln’s former Master. Garen had just been knighted, and no doubt had persuaded his former Master for this favour. It was kind, and he would be a knight. But no. He hated flying. 

“I thank Master Rhara for her kind offer,” Obi-Wan says.

“The Agricorps-“ Ki-Adi Mundi says. 

“What about other Masters?” Obi-Wan interrupts. He wanted to be a knight, not an archivist, much less a temple guard or a pilot. Definitely not the Agricorps. The Force was fickle if after all this, he would return to the Agricorps.

“No other Master has agreed,” Mace Windu says sternly. 

“What about you, Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan asked, looking imploringly at his little green friend. “Just to help me through my trials,” Master Yoda had always had a soft spot for him. He could always feel it. Surely, Master Yoda…

“Hmm,” Master Yoda closes his eyes and ponders for awhile, then says. “Not the will of the force, this is.” 

He wanted to burst out. Not the will of the force? If you don’t want to do it, just say it! He could feel his anger threatening to burst out now. He was like a young inititate all over again. It was no wonder, no Master would train him now. Not after they had watched the holo-vids of the fight on Naboo.

“Then what is the will of the force?” Obi-Wan asks, defiant.

“Meditate, you shall, and your true calling, you shall find,” Master Yoda says.

The council members looked at each other and nodded. 

“You have one rotation to decide. Dismissed, we are,” Mace Windu says. 

He returned to their quarters. Master Qui-Gon had been wrong. He had not been ready. He wanted to cry, scream and shout, like an angry initiate. He had failed. He was not a knight, but he was still a senior-padawan. So he centered himself, forced himself to calm down. He knew the Force still spoke to him and he would listen. He would meditate and find his calling. Anakin was not in the room. He was probably in the Halls of Healing now, attending to his Master. He sat down on his meditation rug and let the events of the past rotation fill his mind, then one by one he dismissed them till his mind was empty. He would listen to what the Force would say.  


He had been confident after the fight on Naboo. He had defeated the Sith, and saved his Master. His Master had been grievously hurt, with a hole burned through his lungs. The red lightsaber had missed his Master’s heart by two hair’s width. He had sustained his Master with his living Force then, keeping him alive until help arrived. He promptly had passed out and awoke in the Halls of Healing back in the temple. When he awoke, Master Qui-Gon was still submerged in a bacta tank. Little Anakin was pacing around the halls, with no where to go. So Obi-Wan had taken him back to their quarters. Fed the boy and helped him get some rest.  


Master Qui-Gon had been in the bacta tank for two days. With his chest wound healed, he was transferred to a regular ward. Master Qui-Gon was almost jubilant as he regarded his two padawans. He wasted no time in repudiating Obi-Wan. From his sick-bed in the Halls of Healing, he had signed the orders. Repudation was such a nasty word, but at that time, they had all laughed about it. Qui-Gon had praised Obi-Wan, assured of his readiness for the trials. And Anakin was immediately taken as his new padawan. I am so proud of you, Obi-Wan, he had said. A great jedi knight you will be. At that time, Obi-Wan did have doubts about his trials. Master Yoda had said he had not been ready. But surely, Master Qui-Gon was right? After what they had been through. Even the Force seemed to whisper how right it was. Master Qui-Gon needed him to pass the trials, and they would guide Anakin together. So he hadn’t protested, hadn’t urged patience where patience was needed. He had allowed his Master’s near euphoria to blind him. He could see it now. He released it into the force. 

He weighted his choices, but found that his initial assessments still held true. He hated flying. But he couldn’t be locked up in the archives or be an anonymous sentinel for the rest of his life. That left the Agricorps and now it seemed the force seemed to nudge him in that direction. He could feel it was right. It was almost funny that after all, he would wind up back at the Agricorps, exactly where he had been 13 years ago. But he was a different man now, a grown man with Jedi skills. He had defeated a sith, for Force sake. He thought back of his apprentice ship with Master Qui-Gon. All that he had learnt and all that they had achieved together. Perhaps he had been needed then, to save Qui-Gon from himself. When they had defeated Xanatos, Qui-Gon had finally been freed from a shadow of self-doubt. Then they had found Anakin and defeated the sith. And now Qui-Gon would raise The Chosen One as his padawan. He understood now. His journey had been to prepare Qui-Gon for this moment, and to prepare himself for the next phase of his life. His journey with Qui-Gon was now ended, and they would all move on. He would move on, with no regrets to wherever the Force would take him.

-To be continued-


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan leaves the temple

He knew that Master Qui-Gon already knew. He had not shielded and Master Qui-Gon would have felt his fear and anger through their training bond. He would be strong for his Master. He was sad to leave his Master and his home. But the will of the Force was clear. He would accept it and move on. He would like to cry. Later, he told himself. After the training bond was severed, there would be time for tears. Every now and then, he felt the anger rise in him. The council would not even permit him to construct a new lightsaber. Your lightsaber is your life, Qui-Gon had always reminded him. True in a way, he had lost his life too. His old life was gone. His future life, the one he always envisioned for himself- gone too. He wanted to go and meet Master Yoda, to plead his case and beg for another chance. Master Yoda had always told him that he was always welcome in his quarters, and had often promised to help in any way he could. Indeed, many times he had gone to Master Yoda for his cryptic advice. But now, when it truly mattered, where was Master Yoda? Why would Master Yoda not help him now? He realised he probably had fallen too far. Once again, he had fallen into the familiar pattern of his youth. Fear or rejection. Anger. Indeed, he had killed the sith in anger. And true, he had attachment to his Master. But wasn’t all this a part of being human? He knew it was not the way of the Jedi. Perhaps he did not want to be a Jedi after all, if he couldn’t have all these. Love, attachment, feelings, and all the things he secretly craved but denied himself. He contemplated leaving the Jedi Order, to become his own free man. Would the Force leave him too? He didn’t know but he knew he couldn’t live without the Force. It was all he had right now. The will of the Force was clear. He would join the Agricorp. It was the right thing to do.

Leaving the temple wasn’t as difficult as he had imagined. The few friends he had were off-planet. Garen, Reeft, Quinlan. They were knights now, of on some classified mission they couldn’t tell him about. He decided not to com them, instead leaving them the sad news on their Holo-recorders. They would get the news when they returned. He remembered Siri, his one-time lover. She too, had been repudiated by her Master. But unlike him, she had truly fallen and had left the order. She was a pirate now, living a life of darkness somewhere out there in the universe. Siri, who had been the brightest star among them, had fallen so low. He could never be like her. 

He packed his things and tried to clear his room- Anakin’s room now, as best as he could. He did not have much personal belongings. Instead, his room was filled with Master Qui-Gon’s things. His shelves were full of boxes of Master Qui-Gon’s things. He was a pack-rat, with trinkets and souvenirs from their many trips across the universe. He looked at the holo-frames on his desk. One was of him and Master Qui-Gon, taken early in his apprenticeship. His Master had his arm on his shoulder. He had been so small then. Another was him and his friends at Dex’s Diner-Garen, Reeft, Quinlan, Siri and Bant. The besalisk had his four arms encircling the group of friends. They were all smiles. This had been before the dreaded mission to New Apsolon. After her Master Tahl’s passing, during that unfortunate mission, Bant had lost her opportunity to become a knight. She settled to join the Healers. Another holo-frame was just him and Bant, holding hands and smiling into the holo-camera. Bant. He felt sadness and regret. He would need to meet her before he left. He carefully put the holo-frames into his bag. He took his journals, and drawing book, but decided to leave his drawing and tool sets, Anakin could use them he thought. He packed most of his clothes and books, even his Holo-pad, he would send them back to the Quartermaster. Everything he had packed to bring with him fit in one bag, that was all his life consisted of. Making sure the room was neat, he gave it a final wipe down.

He was in the fresher. His padawan braid gripped in his left hand. It was long and threaded with many beads- a testimony of his many accomplishments, but yet he had failed the most important trial. He could feel his chest tighten. The tears that threatened to spill. The tremor in his body. His hands were shaking. The vibroblade was sharp in his right hand. He never imagined it this way. It should have been with a lightsaber, done by his Master, in a knighting ceremony. But all those dreams were dust. Now all that there was left was failure, disappointment and shame. His hands trembling, he closed his eyes and severed the braid. It was like he had cut his own neck. The pain he felt as he cast the broken braid into the refuse chute. His tears were flowing now, and he cried. He shouted and he cried, but no one was there to listen. Where his training bond once was, only emptiness remained. So he allowed himself to really cry. A good cry. A cry that felt so good. Then when he could cry no longer, when the weight had left his shoulders, he centered himself, and when his trembling had ceased, he was ready for the Halls of Healing to say his final goodbyes. 

He was in the Halls of healing. He had decided to meet Bant first. As usual, she said that she was busy. He was sad, but he had no more tears left to cry. 

“Bant, please.” Obi-Wan said. “I’m leaving. I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Obi-Wan,” Bant said. She looked at him strangely. He could not tell what she was thinking. Then she turned and started to walk away. He grabbed her hand this time. Not this time. Not again. He would not let her just walk away again.

“Bant,” Obi-Wan said. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what happened to Master Tahl. I’m so sorry Bant, please. But it’s been 5 years, and you have to move on.” She looked at him, her eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill. He took her other hand. It was cold and clammy and her body was stiff and rigid.

‘I’m sorry,” Bant said. “I don’t know how to move on. It’s been 5 years, but I still can’t do this with you.” She pulled her hands away.

“I just wanted to tell you that I will be leaving the temple. I failed my knight trials. And I just want you to be well, Bant.” Obi-Wan said. Bant nodded.

“Perhaps this is for the best,” Bant said. “I wish you well, Obi-Wan. Farewell.” She rubbed her nose with her hands then turned and hurried off.

“Bant…” he called softly after her. Perhaps this was for the best after all. He centered himself in the Force. One last goodbye.

“Master,” he called. Obi-Wan smiled. It was as genuine a smile he could manage. He was happy for his Master. His dream to train The Chosen One was coming true. And Anakin was devoted to him. Other than when Obi-Wan dragged him away for a meal and some rest, Anakin had insisted to stay with Master Qui-Gon in the Halls. For that at least, Obi-Wan was grateful.

“Obi-Wan,” Gui-Gon called back as Qui Gon sat up on his bed. “Come,”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan greeted, running his hand over Anakin’s back and shoulder. He no longer felt jealousy for the boy. No longer blamed Anakin for his situation. It was after all the will of the Force and the boy was The Chosen One. He had played his part, albeit a small part in the Force’s plans for It’s Chosen One. 

“I see you are ready to leave,” Qui-Gon said. He reached out with his hand to touch the frayed stump of the padawan braid.

“I am truly sorry, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said. “If I-“ 

“No, Master, please,” Obi-Wan cut him off. “As you said, Anakin must be trained. And you can feel the Living Force. This feels, right,” Obi-Wan shrugged.  
Qui-Gon nodded, agreed with him. “Indeed, I feel this is what the Force had intended. Yet, I will miss you. You have been a faithful and kind padawan, all things considered.”

“Yes, Master. Thank you Master,” Obi-Wan replied. He knew what his Master meant. That business at Melida/Daan would always come back to haunt him. It was a stain in their relationship that could never, never really go away. Thankfully, Qui-Gon never did blame Obi-Wan for Tahl’s death during the New Apsolon mission. There would be no coming back for that.

“Do keep in touch,” Gui-Gon said. “I would like to know how you are doing,”

“Of course, Master,” Obi-Wan said. He wanted so badly to give his Master a hug, but that was attachment. Instead he stuck out his right hand, settled for a handshake.

“Please take care Master,” Obi-Wan said as Qui-Gon gripped his hand.

“You too, Padawan,” Qui-Gon replied. Then Obi-Wan stooped down to talk to Anakin. He took Anakin’s hand in his.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. “I am leaving, and it falls to you to take care of Master Qui-Gon. Remember what I taught you, okay?”

“Yes, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said.

“I have something for you,” Obi-Wan said. He pressed the smooth black rock into Anakin’s palm. 

“Please take care of it,” Obi-Wan said. “It is my most prized possession,” 

“What is it?” Anakin asked.

“It’s a force sensitive stone Master Qui-Gon gave to me,” Obi-Wan said. “It has helped me out of some very difficult situations. It will help you to focus. It belongs to you now.”

"A gift from Master Qui-Gon? Thank you Obi-Wan!” Anakin said. He stared at the precious river stone, his eyes sparkling. Obi-Wan ruffled his hair and smiled.

“Thank you, Obi Wan,” Qui-Gon said. He was beaming, looking at Anakin’s fascination with the black river stone.

“No,” Obi-Wan said. “Thank you Master, for taking me in, when no one else would. I am forever grateful for your lessons.” 

With that, he gave them a big smile, nodded and fled the Halls of Healing. He would not have expected it, but he could feel the tears threatening to break him once more. At least he knew his Master and Anakin would be alright. They had each other now. He fled the temple as fast as he could. He would spend the rest of the day in the city, waiting for his evening flight to Bandomeer. He dropped by Dex’s Diner for his favourite Nerf burger and to say his goodbyes. He thought again of Siri, of how she had left the order. He could do that now, just disappear from the radar. He could disappear, become a nobody. He did not have to report to Dr. Sa’tu on Bandomeer, as were his orders. He asked the Force but it was silent this time. It was as if it said, what do _you_ want to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Qui-Gon is such an a$$. Too bad Obi-Wan doesn't see it that way. I got some ideas from "It Takes a Village" by Siri_Kenobi12.
> 
> The initial idea was to have Obi-Wan go to Bandomeer and eventually back to his homeworld of Stewjon. But it hasn't been written, and the Force is letting Ob-Wan decide what to do- nothing has been written in stone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan decides to follow the will of the Force

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seems like this Fic has taken a life of its own. What happens is out of my hands now. The Force has plans for Obi-Wan, who am I to stand in its way?
> 
> Now we are into unfamiliar territory. It's tough writing new characters and places. I am having trouble describing locations, people and interactions, so I ended up skipping a whole bunch of scenes. I hope this chapter isn't too bad! Hopefully my writing will improve the more I write :)
> 
> Thank you for reading, please leave a comment! How are you liking the story so far?

He remembered the first time he had seen Bandomeer. He had been with Qui-Gon then, who was not yet his Master. They were aboard the _Monument_ , a mining ship. As it had descended down the atmosphere, he had been astonished, almost overwhelmed by the amount of wilderness. Here was an entire planet, teeming in the Living Force! Their ship had passed a great ocean, and below them now was jungle- an endless untamed land. The _Monument_ descended lower, and the trees were unlike those in the Jedi temple. They were massive, and alive, and he could feel the living animals, insects and life-forms all interconnected like a web in the Living Force. Qui-Gon was beside himself smiling. He had put his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. _You feel it don’t you,_ he had said. _The Living Force._ Soon, they had passed the jungles, into farmed land and then into the city of Bandor.

That was the past. This time, he was aboard a passenger freighter. It was crowded, but he was alone. He had kept to himself during the flight. It had been a long trip. From Coruscant, he had taken a passenger freighter to Bothawui, one of the planets he was familiar with in the mid-rim territory. From there, he boarded another passenger freighter and it had taken several days to reach Bandomeer, which was located far along the outer-rim, almost towards Wild Space. As the freighter descended, he saw again the great sea, an endless expanse of blue. He felt the living Force, as he did those many years ago. He was surprised that he was surprised. Despite his travels and experiences, the Living Force on this planet was still overwhelming- greater than any he had experienced. Only Naboo had come close, but even there, the Living Force felt almost _civilized_. Here, the Living Force was wild, untamed. They flew over the great jungles, still untouched, the agricultural farmlands and into the city of Bandor. The freighter slowed and docked. 

He thought of his friend Si-Treemba, the Arconian, who he had met aboard the Monument. He wondered how he could find him. Last he knew, Si-Treemba and his Arconian brothers had a contract with the Mining clan. But that had been more than a decade ago. There would be time to find his friend, later, if he was still on the planet. Now, Obi-Wan had orders to report to Dr. Sa’tu at the Agricorp HQ in Bandor City. As old habits died hard, he had looked up Dr. Sa’tu on the holo-web. It had always been his pre-mission mission to look up on important facts and data necessary for the mission. Master Qui-Gon had always depended on him for that. So he always tried his best not to disappoint. But there was little he could learn of Dr. Sa’tu on the holo-web. He knew the doctor was a human civilizan, not a jedi. His official post was Director of Bio-technology, one of the many departments in the Agricorp. There had been a holo-news feed of him and one of his team’s recent breakthroughs but other than that, there was little he could learn about the man from the holo-net.

Dr. Sa’tu had been busy at the computer when Obi-Wan arrived at his office. Nevertheless, he stood up and extended a hand. He appeared to be middle-aged, perhaps in his fifties. 

“Good to meet you, Master Kenobi,” Dr. Sa’tu said. Obi-Wan smiled as he shook Dr. Satu’s hand.

Master Kenobi? He was wearing his usual Jedi robes-perhaps that was why the Dr. had mistaken him for a Jedi Knight or Master. 

“Just Obi-Wan, Dr. Sa’tu,” He said, then added hesitantly. “I don’t believe I passed my jedi trials,”

“I see. Obi-Wan then,” Dr. Sa’tu said. “I admit, I am confused by the situation. You are rather much older than the usual reassignments. But then again, you were assigned here, some, 13 years ago?”

“Yes, Dr. Sa’tu,” Obi-Wan said. “I was here 13 years ago. But things happened and I got apprenticed to a Jedi Master. But here I am now, back to where I belong,”

“Yes,” Dr. Sa’tu said. “It seems fate works in strange ways. I have gone over your file, and wondered why the reassignment council had decided to put you in my department,” Dr. Sa’tu said. “From your records, you have no scientific background. I would rather think you better suited to something more mechanical, technical or physical. While I do not doubt your capability to learn a new skill, I would know how you feel about this? I could request a transfer if you would like it?”

“Give me a moment, Dr.,” Obi-Wan said. Odd indeed that the reassignment council would make a scientist out of him. Was this the will of the Force? He centered himself and listened. Indeed, the Force was smiling. This was his intended path. 

“I believe yes, I would like to remain in this department, if you will have me,” Obi-Wan said. “But I will need some time to catch up,”

“Of course. You will be the first Jedi in my department,” Dr. Sa’tu said with a smile. “A jedi scientist- I’m beginning to like the idea. I will assign my best assistant to you. He will guide you and help you settle in.”

“Thank you, Dr. Sa’tu,” Obi-Wan said. Dr. Sa’tu turned on his com.

“Ni-vek, please come down to my office. I have a job for you.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan has a new friend :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it's not too boring with this mundane stuff :)

Ni-Vek was the first Bithian Obi-Wan had actually talked to, so he did not know what to expect. Sure, he had seen Bithians around during his missions. They were not too uncommon around the universe, and they were hard to miss. Like the other members of his race, Ni-Vek had an extra large head, with two very, very big eyes, but was humanoid in most other aspects. So-far, Ni-Vek was like any other human, twi-lek, tholoth or togruta. They had shaken hands like civilized beings and introduced themselves to each other. Ni-Vek had then brought him for a tour around the Agricorp facility. As evening approached, they stopped for dinner. 

They were at Dolo’s Cantina, just one of the several canteens in the Agricorp facility. They were still early and the canteen was not crowded. They sauntered up to the counter where a service droid greeted them. 

“What would you like to eat?” Ni-Vek asked. Obi-Wan studied the holo-menu in front of them. He was glad to see Nerf and Bantha on the menu. But he was feeling adventurous. 

“What is good here?” Obi-Wan asked. “Maybe I’ll take whatever you’re having?”

“Alright then,” Ni-Vek said. He selected ‘Bantha Rendeng served with Rice’. So Bantha it was, after all.

“Drink?” Ni-Vek asked. He had ordered a Jogan juice and Obi-Wan was obliged to follow. Ni-Vek flashed his ID card to pay.

“Thanks. I’ll pay you back later,” Obi-Wan offered but Ni-Vek flashed his hand in front of him, dismissing the notion.

“No thanks,” he said. He then led Obi-Wan to an empty table and begun telling him about the research he was working on. His voice was rather high-pitched, with a pleasant light timbre. Obi-Wan didn’t understand a quarter of what the Bithian was saying, but nevertheless tried to appear attentive. It _was_ difficult, and he ended up listening more to the Bithian’s voice than what he was trying to say. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for the food to be sent over.

The Bantha Rendeng was a spicy stew, aromatic, sweet and sour, with a complex flavour he couldn’t describe. The Bantha chunks were tender, coated with an amazing gravy bursting with flavour. It was served with something called ‘rice’. ‘Rice’ consisted of, he couldn’t tell how many exactly, but there were hundreds or thousands of small white grains, each oblong in shape. Each was soft, yet firm, with a bland but yet mildly fragrant, almost floral smell. It was not like anything he had ever tasted before. And the Jogan juice was so fresh he could feel the Living Force still swirling in the glass before him. He realised he was smiling and thanked the Force. With food like this, this place couldn’t be so bad.

It was hard to tell the Bithian’s expression, but the Bithian seemed to be smiling. At least that was what he could feel in the Force.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said again, and again the Bithian said the strange “No thanks.”

After dinner, N-Vek had shown Obi-Wan to his quarters. The unit was clean and spacious, and bigger than his quarters back in the temple. There was a living room, a kitchen, a bedroom and a fresher. After explaining again how some things worked around here, the Bithian took his leave.

“Thank you, Ni-Vek, I really appreciate it.” Obi-Wan said, placing his arm around the Bithian’s shoulder. The Bithian nodded, seemed to smile.

“No thanks. Comm me, if you need anything, anytime,” the Bithian said. “We will go the laboratory tomorrow. I will come over at 730 and we can have breakfast first?”

“That would be great,” Obi-Wan said. 

That night, as he lay in bed, he couldn’t help but feel like a completely different person. It was as if he was entirely something different now. The temple felt far away. His memories of it felt distant. Everything felt different. His bed felt different. It was soft and warm and comfortable. It was strange how this now felt like home when he had only been here for less than a day. He realised then that this was not another mission. This was his life now. He realised then, that he had truly left home. The temple which had been his home for all his life. He realised then that he _could_ leave it all behind. _If he chose to._ Master Qui-Gon and Master Yoda. Bant. Meditating in the Gardens. The lightsaber drills. Drinks at Dex’s. His favourite Nerf burger. All that was gone now. Everything was gone. All his stupid dreams and aspirations. All the stupid mistakes he had made. Everything was gone. No, no, everything was not gone. They were memories now. Good and bad memories. Painful and sweet memories. He could leave it all behind. He could put his memories into a box, tuck it somewhere hard to find. He could start afresh. He could _try_. He wanted that. A fresh start. This felt right. This was his home now. The tears came unbidden, washing away the old Obi-Wan. He let it become a flood, to drown away all the memories.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi Wan gets ready for his first day at work

When he awoke the next morning, he realised the memories were still there. He was the same person, yet different. He was changed somehow, freed from his past, from his failures and all his shameful history. Here, on Bandomeer, the Force was giving him a new opportunity. Here, on Bandomeer, where he had once rejected the Force’s will. But the Force was forgiving, bringing him back full circle to where he was meant to be. Although he could no longer be a jedi knight, this time he knew he would still have a role to play.  


He was in the fresher getting ready for his day. Obi-Wan looked at himself in the mirror. There was stubble on his jaw, and scraggly wisps above his lips. He had his vibro-shaver in his hand, ready to perform his morning routine. Just then he realised, he could keep a beard if he wanted to. Master Qui-Gon wasn’t here to tell him to shave it off. It had been perhaps five years ago, when he had entertained the idea of keeping a beard- he had wanted to grow one just like his Master. Master Qui-Gon had given him one look and was against it. _It looks patchy and frankly ridiculous, padawan, get rid of it,_ his master had said. When he had hesitated, thinking it just needed more time to thicken out, Qui-Gon told him it was against padawan regulations. He knew _that_ was ridiculous, for no Togruta padawan would be asked to cut off his montrals. But since that day, he had shaved daily, even when on missions. Now Master Qui-Gon wasn’t here, but the shadows he had casted still remained. Obi-Wan was torn. To shave or not to shave. It seemed the hardest choice in the world. It was so _trivial_ , he couldn’t believe how long he pondered. In the end, Obi-Wan did not use the vibro-shaver. He would like to see if his Master was right or wrong.

He was dressed in civilian clothes. While it wasn’t the first time he wore civilian clothes, it did leave him feeling rather self-conscious. In fact it wasn’t too long ago that he had dressed similarly, when he had gone undercover as an accountant on Chandrila. Now he was wearing a light blue short-sleeved shirt, buttoned down the front, tucked into fitting grey slacks. The black belt he wore was thinner and lacked the utility of his obi. His usual boots were replaced with what he learnt were called “sneakers”. He hoped he had done his research properly and he hoped he was dressed appropriately for his new job. When he had arrived in Bandor, he had visited a clothing store before he had come to the Agricorp. It had been difficult, shopping at a civilian store, there were just too many choices and the sales droid assisting him kept insisting for him to buy more. Luckily, he had done his research and bought only what he had sought out to buy. As it was, those few items of clothing had cost him more than an entire month’s stipend. 

He felt almost naked without his brown robe. His lower arms and wrists felt exposed; they were too pale, too thin. And he knew it was ridiculous, but without his familiar tabard, he felt as if his goods were on display. Even his shirt felt too thin. It was made of some light silky material that the droid has said was the _finest rayon_. As a small comfort, he was wearing his jedi issue undershirt and briefs underneath his civilian clothing. He acknowledged his nerves and forced himself calm. He looked at the clock. 7.20. He centered himself-focused on his breathing. Focused on the new sensations on his skin. 7.30. He was ready. On cue, the door-bell rang. Ni-Vek was exactly on time. Obi-Wan took a deep breath and answered the door. 

“Good morning Obi-Wan,” Ni-Vek greeted. He was dressed rather similarly, in a brown and white checkered short-sleeved shirt tucked into black slack pants.

“Good morning, Ni-Vek.” Obi-Wan replied. “What do you think? How do I look?”

“Handsome,” Ni-Vek answered. He crocked his head and took a good look with his very large eyes. “You look good. Less a jedi.”

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said, smiling. Right now, he didn’t want to look like a jedi. He had given up that dream. 

“No thanks,” Nivek replied. “Ready?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's such a short chapter. But get ready, next chapter's gonna be a food frenzy! :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As promised, a food frenzy! And some scientific theory too. 
> 
> This chapter occurs concurrently with Master Of the Living Force, my other work which focuses on Qui-Gon.

Breakfast that morning had been Ni-Vek’s treat again, as Obi-Wan hadn’t gotten his ID yet. They had breakfast at the Kaya and Toast, one of the popular breakfast chain-outlets in Bandomeer. The signature dish here was the titular Kaya and Toast, which they were having now. Once again, the food tasted entirely new to Obi-Wan and was very good. Kaya was a very sweet jam, savoury and rich, creamy and thick. The brown jam was slathered generously in between two slices of crunchy hot toasted bread. He held the sandwich to his mouth and took a big delicious bite. It really was incredibly yummy. And while he had his morning tea, Ni-Vek had had a caf. He had watched in fascination as Ni-Vek savoured the caf. He had brought the cup of steaming caf up before his face, his huge black eyes focusing intently on it. He had no noticeable nose, but the skin flaps under his eyes, where his cheeks should have been, started to ripple in what must have been pleasure. He could feel Ni-Vek’s smile through the Force. 

“That good, huh?” Obi-Wan had said.

“Must have my morning caf,” Ni-Vek said. Obi-Wan just smiled at his friend. Obi-Wan had always been a tea-guy but he definitely could relate. 

Now, they were in the central laboratory. It was a very large room, filled with long worktables and all sorts of machines. This was where Dr. Sa’tu’s team got most of their work done. He got introduced to the rest of the scientists. There were 15 of them, of various races, male and female. Big and small. Dr. Sa’tu’s team was as diverse as the jedi creche, but there were no Force-sensitives here. Ni-Vek gave him a quick tour of the laboratory, and allotted him his work spaces. The laboratory was divided into two sections, the “wet lab ” where they did their physical research and the “dry lab” where they worked on their computers. For that morning, he worked on the computer, reading up on some topics that Ni-Vek had introduced. He _was_ totally new to this after all.

For lunch, they had had “fast food” at Pali Café’, a small diner run by three sisters. It was _not_ the usual “fast food” that Obi-Wan was used to. There were no burgers and fries, no other “fast food” which he was accustomed to. And there was none of that “meat substitute” stuff which was so often served all over the universe nowadays. Instead, there were dishes of freshly cooked food served in rectangle steel trays. There had been twelve dishes, mostly still steaming hot. He was very impressed. For a small diner, the assortment was incredible. it was almost like a buffet. And it was self service. Following Ni-Vek’s suggestion, he tried the sautéed jungle fern. The fern shoots were exceptionally delicious; crunchy and flavourful. They were so fresh and only lightly sautéed, so he could still feel a faint lingering of the Living Force as the tender shoots crunched between his teeth. The fern shoots had been sautéed with a stinky paste which he found almost addictive. He had learnt that in the olden days, the ferns were collected from the wild, but now they were farmed. The stinky paste, which was actually fermented shrimp, was locally produced too. He had also selected to try the sautéed bamboo shoots. Also a local produce, they had a fresh sweet taste, with a mild, almost bitter aftertaste. It was hard for him to describe the tastes for there were so many flavours in every bite. And for his meat dish, of course he couldn’t resist the deep fried nuna leg!! His favourite. Thank the Force! This dish was rare in Coruscant, and never served in the temple. But here it seemed to be served like a common food. As he chewed on the nuna cartilage, it brought back memories of a time long ago. 

The first time he had had it, he had been thirteen. It was during a mission to Gala, where they had been dispatched to monitor elections for a new democracy. The old Queen was abdicating, paving the way for a new elected government. As jedi observers, they had stayed in the royal palace, and given every comfort. For a thirteen year old boy, he couldn’t have been happier. Of course, as missions always were, things were never as they seemed. He had uncovered a plot to poison the Queen just as Master Qui-Gon had discovered a new heir to the throne. There had been some fighting, but in the end, democracy had won the day. He always thought back fondly to that mission. It had been his last mission before Melida/Daan. It was the last mission where he had Master Qui-Gon’s full trust. After Melida/Daan, their relationship had never been the same. He then learnt that some things just couldn’t be fixed, no matter how hard one tried.

“Are you alright?” Ni-Vek suddenly asked. Obi-Wan realised that his mind had drifted. Was that a tear in his eye? _No, it wasn’t._ He quickly centered himself. 

“Oh, yes,” he said. “This is delicious. It reminded me of one of my Jedi missions, when I was a young padawan. My Master and I were dispatched to Gala, a planet on the outer rim, not too far from here in fact-.” He told Ni-Vek about the mission. 

After lunch, they attended one of Dr. Sa’tu’s lectures. He was giving a talk to visiting students from Alderaan Agrotech University. Ni-Vek had explained that core-world universities often sent students to the Agricorp facility for practical experiences. Training these students who came for a rotation or two rotations, or sometimes monthly stint brought in significant revenue for the Agricorp. 

“As I was saying,” Dr. Sa’tu said. “The Midichlorians are the powerhouse of the cell.” He then went on to describe how the Midichlorians, now essential for the survival of every cell in every multi-cellular life-form in the entire universe, sentient or otherwise, had once been a free-form organism. A tiny single celled bacterium, invisible to the naked eye, somehow had found its purpose, becoming a symbiont in a much larger cell, allowing life to bloom all-across the universe. 

_Interesting_ , Obi-Wan thought. _the Living Force_. In the temple, one of his earliest lessons had been of the Living Force. How the Living Force was all around, in every life-form all across the universe. How the Midichlorians channeled the Living Force. How one could listen to the will of the Force when one was silent and centered. How the number of Midichlorians one had determined one’s strength and connection to the Force. This talk by Dr. Sa’tu was not so much different, but it certainly took a more scientific approach. Yes, perhaps Dr. Sa’tu was right. He had just shared his theory of how Midichlorians were present in the highest concentration in a wild species, how generations of domestication actually reduced an organism’s Midichlorian count. It was a theory he was still working on; one which was rather controversial because of its far-reaching implications. Of course, Obi-Wan didn’t understand everything the Dr said. He would discuss this with Ni-Vek later, if he could spare the time.

After the talk, they returned to the lab and Obi-Wan resumed his reading. He read up on basic cell biology, its theories, history and development. This topic was one of the fundamentals every student of Biotechnology simply had to know. 

For dinner, they ate at another canteen, Kal’s Cantina. Kal was not a Kal-dorian. Rather, she was Quarren, and she probably had come from Mon Cala, Bant’s homeworld. The house’s specialty was Calamari- cooked or uncooked in various ways. In the end, they had ordered a platter of deep-fried Calamari to share. Kal was smiling as she fished out several still squirming Calamari and sliced them into manageable bits with her cleaver. She quickly ran them through some water, dusted them in spiced-flour and promptly dropped them into boiling oil. Kal seemed to be enjoying herself a little too much as she stirred the pot of hot oil. 

As he saw the plater of deep-fried Calamari, the suckers on the tentacles reminded him of Bant. How often had he held her clammy wet hands, felt the suckers gently attach to his own palm. He remembered how he had cringed at that strange contact, almost jumped out of his skin the first time it happened, and how dearly he was missing it now.

“Are you alright?” Ni-Vek asked him suddenly. _Oh dear_ , Obi-Wan thought. He had been distracted again. This was becoming a habit. Wasn’t it just last night when he had promised himself he would leave it all behind? He centered himself and recovered. Thank the Force, the Force was still with him.

“Sorry, I’m fine,” Obi-Wan said. “Just reminded of someone.”

“A friend?” Ni-Vek asked. He could feel his friend's concern through the Force.

“Yes, my best friend,” Obi-Wan said. “She’s Mon Calamari.” The unspoken joke made him laugh. Though his Bithian friend didn’t laugh, he could feel Ni-Vek’s amusement.

“You must miss them,” Ni-Vek said when Obi-Wan had calmed.

“Very much indeed,” Obi-Wan said. He had missed Bant for a very long time indeed.

The deep fried Calamari was superb. The spice coating was super crunchy on the outside, and the Calamari inside was chewy and tasty. He knew it couldn’t get any fresher. It was so tasty he didn’t even need to dip it in the fiery hot sauce that accompanied it. Ni-Vek on the other hand was enjoying the hot sauce, dunking the Calamari pieces before stuffing them into his small mouth. Everything on this planet seemed delicious. Or perhaps Ni-Vek just knew the best places. He would have to watch his diet, or he would be gaining some weight!

After dinner, he had returned to his quarters. The rest of the evening, he spent on a holo-pad continuing his afternoon reading. Earlier, he had sent a message to Master Qui-Gon, informing him all was well. At around 10.00, he called it a night and turned in. He would wake at 6:00 tomorrow to meditate. Ni-Vek would be dropping by at 7:30 and they would grab breakfast before heading to the lab. He slept well that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, is there too much mundane happenings going on? Should I skip the mundane and move on with the plot? Not much of a plot in this chapter i'm afraid. I'm sorry I fast-forwarded the laboratory scene. I'm not sure how to write such a scene with 15 other people in a HUGE room with plenty of machines.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Do comment your thoughts/critics! 
> 
> I am so glad to see so many Kudos, especially from some authors who I really look up to!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nitty-gritty lab-work begins.

Adjoining their main laboratory was the plant growth chamber. It was a huge room, full of cabinets with artificial lighting and temperature control. These cabinets were incubation chambers where the plant tissues grew in plexi-dishes or flasks. When he had first entered the room, he could immediately feel the living Force. Here there were thousands upon thousands of tiny life Forces, all radiating their own unique Force signature. He would later learn to distinguish each signature.

It was a brilliant discovery. Scientists had learnt that cells could be de-differentiated back to a basic undifferentiated state. These undifferentiated cells, called “callus” could multiply and propagate endlessly. This “callus” could then be induced by chemical growth regulators to differentiate into different types of cells, and could even (eventually) regenerate a whole organism! Of course, it wasn’t quite so simple. There were dozens of growth regulators available, and all the different species reacted differently- even the dosage was critical too. To solve this problem, scientists used an “optimization” approach to determine which chemicals (and in what concentration) would induce the desired effect. In most cases, hundreds of different combinations would have to be tested before the desired outcome could be achieved. And the process was painstakingly slow, taking months for each tiny callus to respond and differentiate. 

Not the case for Obi-Wan. His connection to the Force allowed him to sense in which way a callus would respond. Once transferred to the growth medium, each tiny callus would start absorbing nutrients as well as the plant growth regulators. Most times, the callus would respond horribly to the chemical treatments, becoming blackened, shrivelled, or deformed. Some went dormant and some even died. He could sense their tiny Force signature, becoming twisted and weakened, almost like a sentient being corrupted by anger and fear, just in a much, much smaller scale. But every once in awhile, he would also sense one of those callus that would respond well, how they felt _right_ and _alive_. These would eventually regenerate into whole plants. Of course it actually took months for the changes to manifest, but so far his _feelings_ had been spot on. That meant he still had to do all the manual work, preparing the tissue culture medium and transferring each callus into the culture flasks. It was tedious, and he could process perhaps two hundred callus samples in a day. Usually by the next day, he could start “feeling” his way through the cultures. It was hard work, going through all those negative feelings, but was rewarding when he found one which just felt _right_. 

Right now, he was working on the rare Carnesian. It was a small flowering plant native to Corellia and had been nearing extinction on its home-world when one sample had found its way to Dr. Sa’tu’s laboratory. Of course, “nearing extinction” meant that it had become a status symbol, something trendy that the uber-wealthy _had to have_. Of course, that meant by now, it was already extinct on the home-world. So far, the researchers here had managed to de-differentiate the Carnesian into the callus form and multiply it abundantly. There were many thousands of plexi-dishes growing Carnesian callus in their laboratory growth chamber. But now they were stumped. So far, all attempts to regenerate the callus into a complete plant had failed. Not a single combination had worked. This Carnesian was proving to be a very recalcitrant plant indeed. 

He was working in the sterile cabinet. Using the Force, he floated each callus from the plexi-dish into its new “home”, a plexi-flask with fresh culture medium containing a certain combination of plant growth regulators. He smiled to himself. It _was blatant misuse of the Force_. But Master Windu wasn’t here, was he? Of course, Master Qui-Gon would have been proud of his resourcefulness. His lab-mates had to rely on forceps to move the calluses, and these forceps were sharp instruments that more often that not, damaged the delicate plant tissues. They also had to constantly deal with contamination. He never had that problem. He could do a very sensitive Force sweep to detect the fungal or bacterial spores and remove them before they could cause any problems. 😊

Unfortunately, this was causing some problems. His use _or misuse_ of the Force seemed to be causing jealousy among some of his lab-mates. He could sense the resentment from several of his lab-mates. Furthermore, they rubbished his “claims” that he could know the plant’s response before it happened. It did hurt him and he could see how “unfair” his gifts were, from their point of view, but what could he do? So he learnt to keep his “findings” to himself. Dr. Sa’tu however had been thrilled; he would definitely be actively fishing for unwanted jedi cast-outs from now! 

After his initial study period, he had been given a choice. He had been offered three projects, each within a different field of Biotechnology. The first was gene manipulation, but it clearly felt wrong in the Force. The second choice had been proteomics, the study of proteins. This was Ni-Vek’s specialty. The Force was silent here, neither approving nor disapproving. The third choice was tissue culture. Really, he had no choice at all. The Force was clearly nudging him in this direction, and it was impossible to resist its will. 

Now, Obi-Wan was having lunch with Ni-Vek. They were at Pali Café’, the canteen run by the three sisters. Just like Ni-Vek, he loved the buffet-like spread here. He had yet to encounter a bad-tasting dish. So, they had lunch here most days. Today his first selection had been his usual: sauteed fern had easily become his favourite, and he was addicted to the stinky shrimp paste. He had also selected Labu, a green gourd sliced thin and sauteed with minced meat and corn kernels. It tasted fresh, sweet and savoury. And of course, he couldn’t resist a deep-friend Nuna leg. To wash it all down, he was having a refreshing sweet and sour starfruit-juice. Thank the Force, one thing he never would lack here was the abundance of good food.

“There must be a better way to use my “gifts”, Obi-Wan says. “I’m not getting any results.” 

“Hmm,” Ni-Vek says as he chews and thinks for a while. “Your gifts can aid you. It works _like_ magic, but its _not_ magic. It _can’t_ magically change the plant’s response. Perhaps you still need to do the experiment the scientific way-through optimization.”

“Then, then, whats the point!!” Obi-Wan says.

“What’s the point?” Ni-Vek says, incredulous. “Patience my young Padawan.” He says it as a joke and Obi-Wan can’t help but laugh. Ni-Vek is smiling in the Force.

“What will take others a month, will take you a day. You can optimize all sorts of things within a month,” Ni-Vek says.

“Of course, you are right,” Obi-Wan says. “I will try it.”

“You will try,” Ni-Vek says. And he _smiles_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was much harder to write than the earlier chapters... but I had fun with the misuse of the Force. :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan settles in.

It was a lot of hard work. While others spent a lot of time waiting for their plants to grow, for him, it was a daily grind. But he was used to hard work. As he was not particularly gifted in the Force (Master Qui-Gon had constantly reminded him of this), he had always had to put in the extra hours. Whether it be lightsaber practice or studying for exams, he knew he had put in more hours than the average padawan. Hard work did pay off for him; he was _competent_ with the lightsaber, and had never failed any exams. Kriff, he had even managed to defeat a sith!

Here on Bandomeer, his self-imposed work routine was a demanding two-day process that repeated itself. In the morning, he would monitor the plants, then select the next combination to optimize. Then he and Ni-Vek would go for lunch. It was usually just the two of them. After lunch, he would prepare the culture media and transfer the callus to the different mediums. He was getting very good at this. His fine control of the Force had increased with practice and he would usually be done by mid-afternoon. The rest of the afternoon, he would spend updating his logbook and reading scientific papers or books. After lab-hours (they usually left the lab by 6:30pm), they would have dinner before returning to their quarters. Most evenings, he would continue his scientific-reading. He was after all, so far behind, and the amount of scientific knowledge to digest was endless. He tried to sleep before 11. The next morning, he would wake at 6 and spend about an hour on meditation. Then he would change and get ready. Breakfast was usually with Ni-Vek. 

It was scaring him how much time they were spending together. Ni-Vek was always so kind to him, and he spent so much more time with Obi-Wan than anyone else. He liked the man, and could already feel his growing attachment. It scared him some-what, as attachment had always been his weakness. He found he couldn’t just set aside his feelings, and be stoic like the jedi code demanded. But then again, there was no jedi council here, and the service-corp regulations did not mention anything about attachment. Perhaps the “no attachment rule” only applied for jedi knights? But part of him was still knight- he had been trained to be a knight after all, and old habits died hard.

He ran his hand across his chin, liking the feel of his beard. It was rough but soft at the same time. He liked how it had turned out. It was full, not patchy at all, like Master Qui-Gon had said it would be. But then again, perhaps it was because he was older now. He kept his auburn beard and moustache neatly trimmed. It didn’t require daily shaving, but every few days he would still have to tend to it. He allowed his hair to grow out too, and he usually kept it slicked back, to keep it off his face when he worked. 

He ran his hands down his tummy, patted it fondly. He was no longer just skin, muscle and bones. All that good food and no exercise had allowed him to fill out some-what. He was still slim, but there was a layer of fat building up. His shirts and pants were getting tight. Since coming to Bandomeer, he had stopped his daily lightsaber training. He hadn’t seen the point of going through the katas _without_ a lightsaber. Especially since he would never be using one again. Besides, he would have needed a large enough space, _and privacy_ of course. Perhaps he would take up running or swimming just to keep fit. In the temple, swimming with Bant had been one of his favourite activities. _It had been_ -no, he wouldn’t let his mind stray again. He wondered if they had some kind of pool here in the Agricorps. 

It had been strange at first, that Anakin was the one replying to his comms. Anakin said that Master Qui-Gon wanted him to practice- his spelling. It had been challenging to decipher Anakin’s messages, but as long as he focused on the phonetic sounds, he could do it. But the boy was smart, and in weeks, Anakin’s spelling had improved so much. Nowadays, the boy had even taken to using shotcuts in his texts, and they were getting hard to decipher again! That felt _uncivilized_ , and it irked him, but he wouldn’t say anything. Beggars couldn’t be choosers. Anakin would tell him about his day; his classes, his lightsaber training or the latest tech he had upgraded. He would even _complain_ to Obi-Wan; about meditation, other younglings, and especially the temple food. In return, Obi-Wan would usually send his snap holos of his meals, especially when something special popped up. Perhaps this was what was causing Anakin’s complaints about the temple food? On the other hand, he was sure his laboratory job was too boring for young Anakin so he rarely told Anakin about it. 

Obi-Wan had only known the boy for a few weeks, but now he found himself smiling whenever he received a comm from the boy. It felt right. After all, in some ways they _were_ brothers. Master Qui-Gon was the closest thing he had to a father, so by extension- Anakin _was_ his brother. He knew such thoughts stank of attachment, but if Master Qui-Gon was fine with it, then he was perfectly happy to continue this relationship. Anakin also was a link a to the temple and Master Qui-Gon, which at first worried him, but no longer bothered him now. He was content with his life as it was. He could no longer _do good_ , protect the weak and oppressed, or keep the peace like he had always dreamed of. That was a job for those with a greater calling. People like Anakin. Here, he could still contribute in his own small way. 

It seemed the Agricorps was not just instrumental for feeding the mother temple back at Coruscant, but also a multitude of impoverished worlds. Not only that, they also rehabilitated planets no longer fit for life. The Agricorps was the largest branch of the service corps with numerous sub-divisions. It was the research done here, the Biotechnology division-led by Dr. Sa’tu, that allowed the rehabilitation of planets desolated by war. Plants bred here had superior traits; robust growth, increased stress resistance and the ability to convert toxic substances into nutrients, allowing these pioneer plants to thrive and colonize those desolate planets. Plant seeding was carried out by the Expeditionary division- it was the first step in healing a planet. It could take decades or up to centuries to restore such planets, but it was a working solution.

The Agricorps was also one of the main financiers of the Jedi machinery. The credits the Agricorps contributed was what allowed the Jedi to reach their mighty hand across the universe. Before this he had never realised just how important the Agricorps were. He had thought they were nothing but farmers. Being “sent to the Agricorps” had often been used as a threat to spur the younglings to work harder. It was humiliating and no aged-out youngling wanted to be sent to the Agricorps. Of all the service corps, the Agricorps had been the worst. _No one_ wanted to be a farmer. But he had been wrong. Individually, the Agricorps members were indeed, nothing special; just thousands of hired non-Force sensitive workers and a few hundred temple rejects. But together, they were the cornerstone of the Jedi; they were the strong foundation that supported all the others above them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The daily grind is REAL.
> 
> Update: Sorry, this is on hold for now! No longer having the luxury of free time... Those still with free time, ENJOY AND OWN IT :)


End file.
